


Loneliness & Love: Love & Loneliness: Love

by KSForever



Series: Home (Georgia) With You [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Off duty times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KSForever/pseuds/KSForever
Summary: McCoy, Jim, & Spock, have plans to spend their off duty time while Enterprise is getting spruced up, together.





	

Loneliness & Love: Love & Loneliness: Love

The home where he had been born and brought up was now his own as the family who’d lived there with him were now in Heaven, or, at least, elsewhere in the Universe; He’d wanted to make this his family home again with Joycelyn and Joanna. McCoy had mixed feelings about coming back here, of course; it made him lonely, but he still loved the place, and, to be here with Jim, and soon, Spock, too, was a pleasure.

 

They were planet-side (on Earth) for a couple of months, while Enterprise was being lavished with top-notch valeting service at Utopia Planetia.

 

Spock had been to see his mother on Vulcan (she had asked him if he could schedule in two visits this time, and not just the rushed, usual one) – his father, too, if he happened to be there – and, then, he’d arrived on Earth, but had a few conferences to attend before he was scheduled to spend some time with Leonard and Jim in Georgia. The next part of the plan was spending a couple of weeks in Iowa, at the home where Jim did most of his growing up, Kirk Ranch. After that, Spock had promised that they could come with him when he went back to Vulcan for a while – to attend some meetings at the Vulcan Embassy, between the Vulcan Science Academy, and Starfleet Science’s representative, which, obviously, in this case, was Spock. He’d promised to show Jim and Leonard around his father’s estate.

 

So, anyway, for the last eight days, just Leonard H. McCoy, and his friend, Jim, had been residing in the McCoy’s’ Homestead in Georgia.

 

They’d taken long walks. They’d done some D. I.Y to some of the windows’ shutters around Len’s old home. They’d read magazines and books. They’d sipped tea, mint julips, and a fair bit of whiskey; sometimes, while out on the porch/veranda, watching the dawn or the dusk. They’d stayed up late, every night, inside, or outside the house, talking. They’d filled in lazy afternoons after their walks, by watching holovids. They’d cooked meals, and eaten takeout. They’d even gone out to a restaurant a couple of times, and, once, they’d been invited over to share a meal with one of Len’s old family friend neighbours from way-back. Jim seemed to be having fun, and Len was, too.

 

Tonight, McCoy lay in his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He’d given Jim the bedroom with the sky-light window. McCoy’s mind was racing, and he was frustrated with himself. “You said you wouldn’t do this.” He kept telling himself, but he couldn’t sleep, and he knew the real reason why. So, silently, he lay there, on his back, with his right hand inside his pyjama pants; resting it on his thigh. He hadn’t moved it across yet. He was currently fighting that temptation as valiantly as he could, but he was losing the battle.

 

He let his hand sink in to his own heat at first; holding his balls; occasionally, touching his groin, and inner thigh. Then, he started digging the heel of his hand, and rubbing his wrist, into his erection, at various points along its length. It wasn’t much more time though, before he, at first, made a ring between his thumb and forefinger, slipping his dick through it, and allowing it the contact with those fingers. He was holding back the inevitable, and couldn’t manage it at this point; so, he took his hard-on in the palm of his hand, and pulled slightly; then, gave in completely, and rubbed his palm along the underside of his dick, letting his hand's warmth and friction travel up the sides of it, and close securely, heatedly, over the top. He was trying to be quiet, to move not much more than his hand, his wrist, his fingers, and his pleading, mind-screwing genitalia. He worked on himself, covering all the angles and strokes his body begged of him, and, as he came, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet – But, almost as soon as he’d stopped -tired as he should be- he started again, yearning still. His dick, again, received every touch he knew it loved – and his balls were not entirely left out.

 

When he came this time, he cried out, as quietly as he could, “Jim! Oh, God, Please, Jim. I so much fucking want you to touch me!” He said, under his breath, and under his own touch. He’d never cum so hard; not even when actually having sex. Not with Joycelyn, or anyone else. He tried not to weep, physically, and emotionally, from two very needy places, as he lay in his lonely bed; for fear of the man in the room along the hall actually hearing one of his best friend’s call his name. For all McCoy knew, and with all the power he had to guess at this, he’d bet that if James T. Kirk could wish to hear one of his two best friends call his name; the one he’d ask to hear, would be Spock, not Leonard H. McCoy.

 

The End..?  
16.4.17


End file.
